Act 2, Scene I

SCENE I. Another part of the island.

Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others GONZALO Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause,So have we all, of joy; for our escapeIs much beyond our loss. Our hint of woeIs common; every day some sailor's wife,The masters of some merchant and the merchantHave just our theme of woe; but for the miracle,I mean our preservation, few in millionsCan speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weighOur sorrow with our comfort.

ALONSO Prithee, peace.

SEBASTIAN He receives comfort like cold porridge.

ANTONIO The visitor will not give him o'er so.

SEBASTIAN Look he's winding up the watch of his wit;by and by it will strike.

GONZALO Sir,--

SEBASTIAN One: tell.

GONZALO When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd,Comes to the entertainer--

ANTONIO Which, of he or Adrian, for a goodwager, first begins to crow?

SEBASTIAN The old cock.

ANTONIO The cockerel.

SEBASTIAN Done. The wager?

ANTONIO A laughter.

SEBASTIAN A match!

ADRIAN Though this island seem to be desert,--

SEBASTIAN Ha, ha, ha! So, you're paid.

ADRIAN Uninhabitable and almost inaccessible,--

SEBASTIAN Yet,--

ADRIAN Yet,--

ANTONIO He could not miss't.

ADRIAN It must needs be of subtle, tender and delicatetemperance.

ANTONIO Temperance was a delicate wench.

SEBASTIAN Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.

ADRIAN The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.

SEBASTIAN As if it had lungs and rotten ones.

ANTONIO Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen.

GONZALO Here is everything advantageous to life.

ANTONIO True; save means to live.

SEBASTIAN Of that there's none, or little.

GONZALO How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green!

ANTONIO The ground indeed is tawny.

SEBASTIAN With an eye of green in't.

ANTONIO He misses not much.

SEBASTIAN No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.

GONZALO But the rarity of it is,--which is indeed almostbeyond credit,--

SEBASTIAN As many vouched rarities are.

GONZALO That our garments, being, as they were, drenched inthe sea, hold notwithstanding their freshness andglosses, being rather new-dyed than stained withsalt water.

ANTONIO If but one of his pockets could speak, would it notsay he lies?

SEBASTIAN Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report

GONZALO Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when weput them on first in Afric, at the marriage ofthe king's fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis.

SEBASTIAN 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return.

ADRIAN Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon totheir queen.

GONZALO Not since widow Dido's time.

ANTONIO Widow! a pox o' that! How came that widow in?widow Dido!

SEBASTIAN What if he had said 'widower AEneas' too? Good Lord,how you take it!

ADRIAN 'Widow Dido' said you? you make me study of that:she was of Carthage, not of Tunis.

GONZALO This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.

ADRIAN Carthage?

GONZALO I assure you, Carthage.

SEBASTIAN His word is more than the miraculous harp; he hathraised the wall and houses too.

ANTONIO What impossible matter will he make easy next?

SEBASTIAN I think he will carry this island home in his pocketand give it his son for an apple.

ANTONIO And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bringforth more islands.

GONZALO Ay.

ANTONIO Why, in good time.

GONZALO Sir, we were talking that our garments seem nowas fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriageof your daughter, who is now queen.

ANTONIO And the rarest that e'er came there.

SEBASTIAN Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.

ANTONIO O, widow Dido! ay, widow Dido.

GONZALO Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day Iwore it? I mean, in a sort.

ANTONIO That sort was well fished for.

GONZALO When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?

ALONSO You cram these words into mine ears againstThe stomach of my sense. Would I had neverMarried my daughter there! for, coming thence,My son is lost and, in my rate, she too,Who is so far from Italy removedI ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heirOf Naples and of Milan, what strange fishHath made his meal on thee?

FRANCISCO Sir, he may live:I saw him beat the surges under him,And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,Whose enmity he flung aside, and breastedThe surge most swoln that met him; his bold head'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'dHimself with his good arms in lusty strokeTo the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,As stooping to relieve him: I not doubtHe came alive to land.

ALONSO No, no, he's gone.

SEBASTIAN Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss,That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,But rather lose her to an African;Where she at least is banish'd from your eye,Who hath cause to wet the grief on't.

ALONSO Prithee, peace.

SEBASTIAN You were kneel'd to and importuned otherwiseBy all of us, and the fair soul herselfWeigh'd between loathness and obedience, atWhich end o' the beam should bow. We have lost yourson,I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples haveMore widows in them of this business' makingThan we bring men to comfort them:The fault's your own.

ALONSO So is the dear'st o' the loss.

GONZALO My lord Sebastian,The truth you speak doth lack some gentlenessAnd time to speak it in: you rub the sore,When you should bring the plaster.

SEBASTIAN Very well.

ANTONIO And most chirurgeonly.

GONZALO It is foul weather in us all, good sir,When you are cloudy.

SEBASTIAN Foul weather?

ANTONIO Very foul.

GONZALO Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,--

ANTONIO He'ld sow't with nettle-seed.

SEBASTIAN Or docks, or mallows.

GONZALO And were the king on't, what would I do?

SEBASTIAN 'Scape being drunk for want of wine.

GONZALO I' the commonwealth I would by contrariesExecute all things; for no kind of trafficWould I admit; no name of magistrate;Letters should not be known; riches, poverty,And use of service, none; contract, succession,Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none;No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil;No occupation; all men idle, all;And women too, but innocent and pure;No sovereignty;--

SEBASTIAN Yet he would be king on't.

ANTONIO The latter end of his commonwealth forgets thebeginning.

GONZALO All things in common nature should produceWithout sweat or endeavour: treason, felony,Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,Would I not have; but nature should bring forth,Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance,To feed my innocent people.

SEBASTIAN No marrying 'mong his subjects?

ANTONIO None, man; all idle: whores and knaves.

GONZALO I would with such perfection govern, sir,To excel the golden age.

SEBASTIAN God save his majesty!

ANTONIO Long live Gonzalo!

GONZALO And,--do you mark me, sir?

ALONSO Prithee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me.

GONZALO I do well believe your highness; anddid it to minister occasion to these gentlemen,who are of such sensible and nimble lungs thatthey always use to laugh at nothing.

ANTONIO 'Twas you we laughed at.

GONZALO Who in this kind of merry fooling am nothingto you: so you may continue and laugh atnothing still.

ANTONIO What a blow was there given!

SEBASTIAN An it had not fallen flat-long.

GONZALO You are gentlemen of brave metal; you would liftthe moon out of her sphere, if she would continuein it five weeks without changing.

Enter ARIEL, invisible, playing solemn music

SEBASTIAN We would so, and then go a bat-fowling.

ANTONIO Nay, good my lord, be not angry.

GONZALO No, I warrant you; I will not adventuremy discretion so weakly. Will you laughme asleep, for I am very heavy?

ANTONIO Go sleep, and hear us.

All sleep except ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, and ANTONIO

ALONSO What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyesWould, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I findThey are inclined to do so.

SEBASTIAN Please you, sir,Do not omit the heavy offer of it:It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,It is a comforter.

SEBASTIAN WhyDoth it not then our eyelids sink? I find notMyself disposed to sleep.

ANTONIO Nor I; my spirits are nimble.They fell together all, as by consent;They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might,Worthy Sebastian? O, what might?--No more:--And yet me thinks I see it in thy face,What thou shouldst be: the occasion speaks thee, andMy strong imagination sees a crownDropping upon thy head.

SEBASTIAN What, art thou waking?

ANTONIO Do you not hear me speak?

SEBASTIAN I do; and surelyIt is a sleepy language and thou speak'stOut of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say?This is a strange repose, to be asleepWith eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving,And yet so fast asleep.

ANTONIO I am more serious than my custom: youMust be so too, if heed me; which to doTrebles thee o'er.

SEBASTIAN Well, I am standing water.

ANTONIO I'll teach you how to flow.

SEBASTIAN Do so: to ebbHereditary sloth instructs me.

ANTONIO O,If you but knew how you the purpose cherishWhiles thus you mock it! how, in stripping it,You more invest it! Ebbing men, indeed,Most often do so near the bottom runBy their own fear or sloth.

SEBASTIAN Prithee, say on:The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaimA matter from thee, and a birth indeedWhich throes thee much to yield.

ANTONIO Thus, sir:Although this lord of weak remembrance, this,Who shall be of as little memoryWhen he is earth'd, hath here almost persuade,--For he's a spirit of persuasion, onlyProfesses to persuade,--the king his son's alive,'Tis as impossible that he's undrown'dAnd he that sleeps here swims.

SEBASTIAN I have no hopeThat he's undrown'd.

ANTONIO O, out of that 'no hope'What great hope have you! no hope that way isAnother way so high a hope that evenAmbition cannot pierce a wink beyond,But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with meThat Ferdinand is drown'd?

SEBASTIAN He's gone.

ANTONIO Then, tell me,Who's the next heir of Naples?

SEBASTIAN Claribel.

ANTONIO She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwellsTen leagues beyond man's life; she that from NaplesCan have no note, unless the sun were post--The man i' the moon's too slow--till new-born chinsBe rough and razorable; she that--from whom?We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast again,And by that destiny to perform an actWhereof what's past is prologue, what to comeIn yours and my discharge.

SEBASTIAN What stuff is this! how say you?'Tis true, my brother's daughter's queen of Tunis;So is she heir of Naples; 'twixt which regionsThere is some space.

ANTONIO A space whose every cubitSeems to cry out, 'How shall that ClaribelMeasure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis,And let Sebastian wake.' Say, this were deathThat now hath seized them; why, they were no worseThan now they are. There be that can rule NaplesAs well as he that sleeps; lords that can prateAs amply and unnecessarilyAs this Gonzalo; I myself could makeA chough of as deep chat. O, that you boreThe mind that I do! what a sleep were thisFor your advancement! Do you understand me?

SEBASTIAN Methinks I do.

ANTONIO And how does your contentTender your own good fortune?

SEBASTIAN I rememberYou did supplant your brother Prospero.

ANTONIO True:And look how well my garments sit upon me;Much feater than before: my brother's servantsWere then my fellows; now they are my men.

SEBASTIAN But, for your conscience?

ANTONIO Ay, sir; where lies that? if 'twere a kibe,'Twould put me to my slipper: but I feel notThis deity in my bosom: twenty consciences,That stand 'twixt me and Milan, candied be theyAnd melt ere they molest! Here lies your brother,No better than the earth he lies upon,If he were that which now he's like, that's dead;Whom I, with this obedient steel, three inches of it,Can lay to bed for ever; whiles you, doing thus,To the perpetual wink for aye might putThis ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence, whoShould not upbraid our course. For all the rest,They'll take suggestion as a cat laps milk;They'll tell the clock to any business thatWe say befits the hour.

ANTONIO O, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear,To make an earthquake! sure, it was the roarOf a whole herd of lions.

ALONSO Heard you this, Gonzalo?

GONZALO Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming,And that a strange one too, which did awake me:I shaked you, sir, and cried: as mine eyes open'd,I saw their weapons drawn: there was a noise,That's verily. 'Tis best we stand upon our guard,Or that we quit this place; let's draw our weapons.

ALONSO Lead off this ground; and let's make further searchFor my poor son.

GONZALO Heavens keep him from these beasts!For he is, sure, i' the island.